Belief & Betrayal Chapter 2

[grumpybear1031]

+ Title: Belief & Betrayal
+ Authors: grumpybear1031  and shaych_03 
+ Fandom: Warehouse 13
+ Pairing: H.G./Myka
+ Notes: Ladies lovin’ ladies ahead… and angst, and action, and well, just read it – we promise you a happy ending. Takes place where 2X12 Reset leaves off, possible spoilers for both seasons. Some liberties taken with certain events, as we don't have actual dates for H.G.'s bronzing etc...  We are over 16 chapters in and at over 90 pages so far so updates should be regular.
+ Rating: We'll play it safe and say R throughout NC-17 Chapters will be clearly marked.

Disclaimer: Warehouse 13 and it's characters belongs to Syfy. We're just borrowing them for a while and promise to give them back.

Author's Note: Shay, I hope you can forgive me for dragging you into this mess. My obsession with H.G. Wells blinded me, and a need to correct the total mess that was “Reset” kind of made me crazy. I'm not much of a writer so your help in getting this from inside my head to down on paper is very much appreciated. I'd also like to say a big thanks todarandkerry  for being an amazing beta. Your suggestions and punctuation help are invaluable.

Author's Note: Jen, you may have dragged me into watching Warehouse 13 kicking and screaming, but I've had more fun working on this story with you than I have in a long time. Your ideas are great; you have a natural ability to kick start my muse and keep her chugging along happily. Should I even bother to mention how good you are at calling me on BS characterizations or reinterpreting the sometimes cornball melodrama that my muse creates? Anyway, I'm glad you got me into this. I would also like to add my thanks todarandkerry , for her spot on beta skills. I hope we didn't kill you with all the missing commas.

CHAPTER 1


CHAPTER 2

Helena was trapped upside down, caught in a twisted jumble of seat belt, handcuffs, and the assorted boxes of evidence that had been tossed about when the vehicle had tumbled off the road.

Somehow during the accident, a portion of the belt had become tightly wrapped around her neck, cutting off most of her air. Blood poured sluggishly from a nasty gash on her forehead, coated her lips, and congealed on her blouse.

"Helena?" Myka seemed stuck, unable to move forward or backward as she struggled to figure out if this was some kind of trick. "What happened?" she asked dumbly.

"Well, Darling, I don't really -" H.G. coughed, spitting up a gob of blood, and then gasped heavily. At that point, Myka realized that the unattractive blue tinge to Helena's lips wasn't an exotic lipstick, but was instead the end result of a severe lack of oxygen

"Oh. Oh! Helena!" Pushing the body of the driver into the passenger seat, Myka shoved herself through the broken window, ignoring the tiny twinges of pain where glass cut into her flesh and caught the other woman, lifting her up her enough to alleviate the pressure from the strap that was cutting off Helena's ability to breathe.

Inhaling her first deep breath of air in far too long, Helena whispered, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. I might just decide to let you hang. Now, what happened?" Never had Myka felt such a conflicting state of fear, anger, confusion, and something she really didn't want to acknowledge – desire.

"Would you believe anything I told you right now, anyway? I'm the bad guy, remember?" Helena said bitterly.

Myka grimaced and retorted, "How could I forget?"

"Then you might as well let me hang. I'd rather not sit here and listen to your pathetic recriminations."

Helena's words stung, but Myka couldn't just let her die, even with all that had happened. "Shut up. Just be quiet and let me think."

"What is there to think about, Agent Bering? Let me hang, or call Artie. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to make the decision."

Myka closed her eyes. "Helena, I'm not going to let you hang." She sighed. "Maybe I'm an idiot, but I can't just let you die. Now hold still a moment.” Gripping the seat belt, she tried to unwind it from around Helena’ s neck, but there wasn’t enough slack.

“See, even this wretched vehicle wants you to leave me here,” Helena gasped.

Rolling her eyes, Myka said, “Oh please, spare me any more melodramatics. The belt’s just stuck – the mechanism probably broke in the stress of the accident. I’m not leaving you here.” As she continued to tug and pull on the strap, Myka looked around for some other way of freeing Helena. In the front seat, she spotted the answer on the belt of the dead guard. A leather knife sheath was perched next to a gun holster and a handcuff case. It was, however, some distance away from her, and to reach it, she’d have to relax her grip on Helena. "Hold your breath."

"What?"

"I have to let you go for a minute, so hold your breath, Helena. Or you can hang there, gasping like a fish out of water. I really don't care!"

With that, Myka released Helena, leaned forward, grabbed the knife, flipped it open and then set to sawing through the heavy duty nylon of the seat belt as quickly as she was able. It took longer than she'd anticipated, however, and by the time she was done, Helena was barely breathing.

There was only one flaw with Myka's plan, and it was immediately evident the moment the last of the nylon parted. With a shriek, Helena collapsed to the roof and, in that instant, Myka realized that the other woman was still handcuffed to the door and that her shoulder was completely dislocated.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Myka babbled as she tossed the knife aside and tried to reposition Helena so that her arm wasn't bearing all of her weight. The other woman was nothing but dead weight, though, there was no snappy reply, no telling expression that Helena was famous for as she lay perfectly still, and for a heart-stopping moment, Myka feared that she was actually dead.

"Helena!" she shouted, shaking her slightly. "Oh no, no, no, no, don't you even do this to me, H.G. Wells. You do not get to completely fuck up my life and then die on me."

Myka glared at the woman in her arms. "Come on, you stubborn bitch. You survived being bronzed, surely you can handle a little tumble in a SUV."

Unable to completely control her anger, Myka gave Helena another shake and was just about to deliver a rather stinging slap to the woman's face when she spotted something pale and glittering caught in Helena's blood-matted hair.

"What is that?" With one hand, Myka reached for the object, tenderly brushing away strands of hair to reveal the blood speckled form of a pearl. Helena was not wearing earrings. Neither was she adorned with any kind of necklace, pin, or other form of jewelry that would explain how a stray gem might get caught in her hair. Realization, when it struck, kicked like a mule.

"The Pearl of Wisdom," Myka whispered.

TBC